


Don't Be Blue

by FindYourAnchor (DustyHalo)



Series: Foxverse (Sterek Bingo 2019) [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale is a survivor, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Stiles Stilinski is Seventeen Years Old, Violence, Warning: Kate Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 03:41:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19034059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyHalo/pseuds/FindYourAnchor
Summary: Stiles gets revenge on Kate Argent.





	Don't Be Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate scene for episode 4x12  
> Written for Sterek Bingo 2019.  
> Theme: Revenge

Derek stared down at his hands. There’d been blood on them earlier. Kate’s blood. She was dead now but he hadn't been the one to kill her.

Oh he'd tried. He'd tried to bring himself to deliver the killing blow. First as a wolf then in his human form. But some part of him, some awful, broken, twisted part of him had still loved her.

Kate had smirked at him in that dark way she had when he'd pulled back from her. She had opened her mouth to say something when two shots had gone off. Sharp and sudden and well aimed. Both bullets catching Kate in the head in quick succession. Sending out a spray of blood and bits of brain matter over the ground.

Derek had assumed it was Chris but when he'd torn his gaze from Kate’s lifeless body it was to find Stiles holding a gun.

Chris was right next to him. He'd looked startled. Maybe because Stiles has managed to get a gun off him before he could react.

“Stiles, just give it to me,” Chris had spoken softly. As if he didn't want to spook Stiles. His hands reaching out to gently pry the gun loose of Stiles fingers when his hands started to shake with the reality of what he'd just done. “It's alright.”

But it wasn't alright. Stiles had just _killed someone_.

Derek hadn't spoken a word to Stiles since that moment. He hadn't spoken when Stiles stumbled and dropped to his hands and knees. His shoulders shaking as he heaved.

He hadn't spoken once he was clothed and they were sitting across from each other in the van with everyone looking between them while Stiles stared at him and Derek refused to meet his eyes.

He hadn't said a single word when they had gotten to the motel. Not when Stiles trailed after him into the motel room Chris had gotten them with soft pleas for Derek to look at him- just _look_ at him- and Derek had slammed the bathroom door shut without a word when Stiles tried to follow.

Derek couldn't look at him. He was sickened at the thought of what he'd see in those eyes now.

The bathroom was small. Old. Poorly lit. The shower worked at least when Derek turned it on. Though the pipes clanked and whined with the effort.

Derek stripped out of his clothes and stepped under the spray of water. Not caring if it was warm enough. He just wanted Kate's blood off him. Dry blood that turned bright once more under the water and circled the drain when it ran off him as he stood there silently with his forehead against the tile wall and his heart in his throat.

The problem wasn't even that Stiles had killed someone. Or that it was Kate. It was that he'd killed someone for _him_.

Stiles was good. He was good, and kind, and decent and the thought that he'd given something up for Derek that he could never get back made Derek’s stomach turn.

Would his eyes be blue now? Like Derek’s?

Derek turned off the water and stepped from the shower. He dried himself with one of the too small towels the motel had provided then pulled on the clothes he'd been wearing before since he didn't have any others available.

He didn't look at Stiles when he exited the bathroom. Though could sense his presence. The bathroom door clicked shut. So loud in the stillness of the room that it could have been the sound of a third gunshot and Derek hid his face in his hands when he sat on the bed.

Derek thought about Kate. He thought about the things she did to him. About shock collars and electric wands and her fingers pressing down into his throat. About strap-ons and every no that was ignored. Every slap across his face. And all those moments afterwards that he went over it in his mind trying to pick apart what he had done wrong and what words he should have said instead that would have made it stop.

He thought about the fire and how his family must have screamed. He thought about his mother burning alive. Then he thought about Stiles and his own eyes burned with unshed tears.

“Are you mad at me?” Came a strained whisper what could have been hours later and it was enough to make Derek’s head snap up.

The dim lighting in the room made Stiles look washed out. His hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, or maybe water. Had he showered? Derek hadn't been paying attention.

There was silence between them again. It hung heavy in the air. Thicker than the dry heat of the room and just as suffocating.

Derek rose from the bed he was sitting on slowly. He crossed the room to Stiles with heavy steps. His bare feet dragging across the cheap carpet.

He didn't want to ask. But he had to know.

“Show me your eyes,” Derek whispered.

Stiles blinked up at him. There were tears on his cheeks. His eyes red rimmed and looking so lost.

“Show me,” Derek repeated as he brought a hand up to cup Stiles face, holding him still.

Stiles closed his eyes and Derek caught his breath with the fear that slithered up his spine to clamp down like a vice between his shoulders. A lump lodged in his throat and his heart pulling tight in his chest as the seconds dragged by.

Derek let out the breath he'd been holding when Stiles opened his eyes. Golden orange eyes that seemed to flicker like flame as they searched Derek's face.

“I just wanted to keep you safe,” Stiles said softly as more tears slipped down his cheeks. “She wouldn't have stopped. She would have… I just needed you to be safe.”

The last part came out muffled as Derek pulled Stiles tight to him and buried his face in his hair. He smelled like anxiety and guilt and those little shampoos Derek had ignored in the bathroom.

“Does this mean you don't hate me?”

“I never hated you. I could never hate you Stiles.”

“I killed someone.” Stiles’ voice sounded like broken glass. Brittle and cracked under the weight of his conscience.

“I still don't hate you.”

Stiles pulled back just enough to look up at Derek. His eyes were amber now, and tired.

“You still love me?”

“Of course I do.” Derek nodded. “More than anything.”

Stiles closed his eyes as he sighed out a breath. “You weren’t acting like it before.”

”I’m not always good at dealing with my emotions.”

Stiles nodded with Derek’s words. “That might be an understatement.”

Derek bowed his head before looking back up at Stiles. “I’ve been trying so hard not to ruin you.”

Stiles shook his head. ”Derek-”

”I don’t want you to end up like me.”

”Don’t say stuff like that.” Stiles cupped a hand to Derek’s face. “You’re not ruined. Or broken. Or any of those other things you tell yourself.”

“I shouldn’t have put all of this on you.”

“And you shouldn’t have had to carry it alone fo so long.”

A car drove by outside. Its headlights made shadows slide over Stiles face and his eyes flare with the flash of light.

Derek looked away as he said, “It would have been better if I never said anything.”

”Not for you.”

”You would have been happier.”

”You make me happy.” Stiles shook his head and smiled wryly. “At least when you’re not ignoring me.”

”I’m sorry.”

Stiles shrugged then stepped back and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. ”I’m just glad we’re okay.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t lose a part of yourself for me.”

“I knew what could have happened,” Stiles admitted. “I didn’t care what getting revenge on her would do to the color of my eyes.”


End file.
